Sematic Arguments
Event Horizon
9/8/00
5:25 pm EST
"Luke!", the words ripped from Mara like an explosion from some primieval volcano, spilling her
anguish through her voice into a pool of pure fear that surrounded everyone within the Jedi Council
chamber on the surface of the New Republic capital of Coruscant. Her eyes replayed Kyp Durron's
argent energy weapon slicing through her husband's flesh and bone, burning his robe and charring his
skin horribly. Kyp Durron's voice shook with anger as he turned to face the remainder of the Jedi
Council, still in it's infancy.
"Which one of you DARES face me next! None will resist my power!", his voice trembled with
anger, the red bladed lightsaber in his right hand thrumming menacingly to the remainder of the Jedi.
Streen, as faithful to the Master Skywalker as he was, regained his voice first. "You won't
get away with this, Kyp. Master Skywalker is not dead, but elevated above us, into the Force. You
cannot win, by killing him, you have already lost", his words came slowly, very little emotion coming
into his voice as he struggled with the inner demons that had been set free as he watched his Master
die. He'd thought the demons had been destroyed, the hatred of other people, and his feelings under
control, but yet again, he sensed the feelings of everyone around him without particularly wanting to.
He had lost control, though he was not going to admit it.
Kyp's upper lip curved into a snarl of hatred as he regarded Streen. "Old man, do you think you
can hide your weakness from a Sith Lord?", his voice echoed off from the walls as it rose in volume,
a threatening growl entering it. The assembled Jedi gasped, the impact of his words and actions finally
hitting them. The beginning had been destroyed. If Kyp Durron could destroy their leader, what chance
did they stand against him? After all, Luke had taught them everything he could, yet his own considerable
powers were not enough to save him from the wrath of his most angry student.
"Kyp, calm down, son", that was the voice of Han Solo, standing near the turbolift. His craggy
features were pained, he'd just witnessed the death of Luke Skywalker, one of his oldest and most trusted
friends. Since the Yuuzhan Vong crisis, it was thought that the Jedi would be a beacon of light and hope
that the galaxy would look upon for support as it rebuilt it's damage and mourned it's losses, so many
losses: Ithor, Dubrillion... and... Sernpidal, where he lost Chewbacca. Chewbacca's son Lumpawaroo stood
at his right shoulder; but the youthful power in his stride did not reflect that of his powerful, wise, and
aged father. Across the chamber, the other Wookiee who had taken up the life-debt, Lowbacca, stood with his
lightsaber grasped tightly in his left hand, the gleaming tips of claws evident near his knuckles as he
strained to hold himself under control as Kyp Durron stalked around the chamber, his eyes not leaving Han
Solo for a second.
"Calm down? I will not leave myself open for a Jedi's treacherous attack!", the snarl on his face
folded over, malevolance, and a hint of insanity glinting in his eyes.
"Treachery, don't talk about treachery. You just cut down my brother-in-law in cold blood, Kyp", Han
snarled at him, his right hand stroking a well worn spot on his ancient pants, so well worn that the
double Red Corellian Bloodstripe had almost disappeared into the fabric... where his DL-44 had been holstered
for years. Not that it would do any good, he'd seen the Jedi excercises for deflecting blaster bolts, it was
basic. Anybody that could kill Luke, a blaster bolt would not even touch, regardless of how well aimed it was.
"Shut up!", the words exploded out of Durron, his stalking carrying him towards Han and his Wookiee
companion, who had his self-crafted bowcaster leveled at the fallen Jedi Master. "He tricked me! He told me
how the Force would protect me! He lied! The Dark Side is so much more powerful! If I would've had it, the
Yuuzhan Vong never would've touched me! He lied to us all!" His right index finger stabbed down at his left
hand, where his ring and middle fingers were missing, a sharp line from his thumb over to the tip of his ring
finger where the hand went from being normal, to being the freakish half of a hand that it was.
"Kyp, he let you kill him. I don't know anything about the Force, it's like trying to teach navigation
to an Ewok, but I think that he knew you would do that, and knew what would come out of it. Oh, and Kyp?", his
lips turned into a snarl as his left hand blurred from behind his back, the well worn grip of the DL-44 Blaster
pressed against it's palm, "I didn't save you from Kessel to kill my family."
End of chapter 1. Check back
soon for new
additions!
Event Horizon
9/8/00
5:25 pm EST
"Luke!", the words ripped from Mara like an explosion from some primieval volcano, spilling her
anguish through her voice into a pool of pure fear that surrounded everyone within the Jedi Council
chamber on the surface of the New Republic capital of Coruscant. Her eyes replayed Kyp Durron's
argent energy weapon slicing through her husband's flesh and bone, burning his robe and charring his
skin horribly. Kyp Durron's voice shook with anger as he turned to face the remainder of the Jedi
Council, still in it's infancy.
"Which one of you DARES face me next! None will resist my power!", his voice trembled with
anger, the red bladed lightsaber in his right hand thrumming menacingly to the remainder of the Jedi.
Streen, as faithful to the Master Skywalker as he was, regained his voice first. "You won't
get away with this, Kyp. Master Skywalker is not dead, but elevated above us, into the Force. You
cannot win, by killing him, you have already lost", his words came slowly, very little emotion coming
into his voice as he struggled with the inner demons that had been set free as he watched his Master
die. He'd thought the demons had been destroyed, the hatred of other people, and his feelings under
control, but yet again, he sensed the feelings of everyone around him without particularly wanting to.
He had lost control, though he was not going to admit it.
Kyp's upper lip curved into a snarl of hatred as he regarded Streen. "Old man, do you think you
can hide your weakness from a Sith Lord?", his voice echoed off from the walls as it rose in volume,
a threatening growl entering it. The assembled Jedi gasped, the impact of his words and actions finally
hitting them. The beginning had been destroyed. If Kyp Durron could destroy their leader, what chance
did they stand against him? After all, Luke had taught them everything he could, yet his own considerable
powers were not enough to save him from the wrath of his most angry student.
"Kyp, calm down, son", that was the voice of Han Solo, standing near the turbolift. His craggy
features were pained, he'd just witnessed the death of Luke Skywalker, one of his oldest and most trusted
friends. Since the Yuuzhan Vong crisis, it was thought that the Jedi would be a beacon of light and hope
that the galaxy would look upon for support as it rebuilt it's damage and mourned it's losses, so many
losses: Ithor, Dubrillion... and... Sernpidal, where he lost Chewbacca. Chewbacca's son Lumpawaroo stood
at his right shoulder; but the youthful power in his stride did not reflect that of his powerful, wise, and
aged father. Across the chamber, the other Wookiee who had taken up the life-debt, Lowbacca, stood with his
lightsaber grasped tightly in his left hand, the gleaming tips of claws evident near his knuckles as he
strained to hold himself under control as Kyp Durron stalked around the chamber, his eyes not leaving Han
Solo for a second.
"Calm down? I will not leave myself open for a Jedi's treacherous attack!", the snarl on his face
folded over, malevolance, and a hint of insanity glinting in his eyes.
"Treachery, don't talk about treachery. You just cut down my brother-in-law in cold blood, Kyp", Han
snarled at him, his right hand stroking a well worn spot on his ancient pants, so well worn that the
double Red Corellian Bloodstripe had almost disappeared into the fabric... where his DL-44 had been holstered
for years. Not that it would do any good, he'd seen the Jedi excercises for deflecting blaster bolts, it was
basic. Anybody that could kill Luke, a blaster bolt would not even touch, regardless of how well aimed it was.
"Shut up!", the words exploded out of Durron, his stalking carrying him towards Han and his Wookiee
companion, who had his self-crafted bowcaster leveled at the fallen Jedi Master. "He tricked me! He told me
how the Force would protect me! He lied! The Dark Side is so much more powerful! If I would've had it, the
Yuuzhan Vong never would've touched me! He lied to us all!" His right index finger stabbed down at his left
hand, where his ring and middle fingers were missing, a sharp line from his thumb over to the tip of his ring
finger where the hand went from being normal, to being the freakish half of a hand that it was.
"Kyp, he let you kill him. I don't know anything about the Force, it's like trying to teach navigation
to an Ewok, but I think that he knew you would do that, and knew what would come out of it. Oh, and Kyp?", his
lips turned into a snarl as his left hand blurred from behind his back, the well worn grip of the DL-44 Blaster
pressed against it's palm, "I didn't save you from Kessel to kill my family."
End of chapter 1. Check back
soon for new
additions!